


Schizo

by nightmareStag, wolfpoots



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: 2nd Person, Deadpool - Freeform, I don't know what I'm doing, M/M, Poor Jeremy, Wade Wilson - Freeform, You amazing roommate, yup
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-08
Updated: 2015-07-20
Packaged: 2018-02-28 17:09:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 6,899
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2740367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightmareStag/pseuds/nightmareStag, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfpoots/pseuds/wolfpoots
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2nd person FNAF reader x foxy fic. Beta read by wolfpoots.tumblr.com</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I know that a lot of people probably don't read these things, but I thought I'd give it a shot. I've seen a lot of Foxy/reader fics and a lot of them weren't well written. I know I'm not a great author, but you know, it's better than most. 
> 
> Beta read by wolfpoots.

You push through your shift lazily, slowly moving through the cluttered tables. Children are running throughout the pizzeria, their attention being grabbed by this or that. You have just ten minutes left in your shift and are carrying an extra large pepperoni pizza to a table of tired looking adults and screaming kids. The show was just about to begin and you wanted to be out of the dining room before those evil robots would come on stage. They majorly creeped you out. You heard a lot of bad things about these animatronics, but even without the rumors, those fuckers were just terrifying.  

 

Some of the employees have noticed that towards the end of your shift, you tend to somehow appear near the break room.

 

8:54 pm

 

“Please, please, please,” you whisper to yourself.

 

But as fate would have it, the lights dim around you and all attention is turned to the stage. Freddy Fazbear is standing center stage in front of a microphone.

 

“Hey kids!” the bear called cheerfully.

 

The crowd erupted in a flurry of “Hey Freddy!” and uncoordinated screaming.

 

It was the same thing every. Damn. Time. He asked questions, the kids answered, and then Bonnie and Chica joined in the band. They sang some dumb song and then the curtain dropped again. Those things are monsters. Their soulless, blank eyes looked into the audience with mock joy as their endoskeletons pulled the fur into a smile. Why do they need teeth? And even if they did, why does Chica need two sets of teeth.

 

You cringe mentally as the previously mentioned chicken and Bonnie walked onto stage. It is now 8:58. No harm in ‘taking a break’ conveniently two minutes before your shift ended.

 

You slide through the door marked “E M P L O Y E E S  O N L Y” and begin to navigate through the halls of the back rooms. The break room holds three people, Charlie, Naomi, and your boss, Larry White.

 

Charlie was the chef. Everyone called him ‘Bones.’ His dark brown hair was pulled back into a short ponytail as he talked animately to Naomi. His expression was dark with worry from the topic of their conversation.

 

Naomi was the first to turn to you. She nearly choked on her curly hair in the process. Naomi was the typical blonde haired, blue eyed girl. She had clear skin and a muscular build. The waitress could definitely take most of the staff in a fight if she wanted to.

 

Mr. White looked the most out of place in the trio. Larry, a man well into his forties, was balding and out grew the hair on the sides of his head in an attempt to compensate for the loss. Coke bottle lenses sat on top of his pointed nose. While a funny looking man, Larry was kind hearted and kept Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria running smoothly.

 

“Hi Edward,” Naomi said to you, “Taking off?”

 

You shrug meekly in response. Naomi pouts.

 

Charlie nagged, “Leave ‘im alone. Edward probably has homework to do or what ever his ‘college type’ does.” His finger quotations didn’t go unnoticed.

 

His grumpy exterior, while off putting, is nothing more than that, an exterior. Charlie’s actually quite nice to you.

 

Larry laughs lightly and stands. “Well, I might as well go hang the sign. We need a new night guard.”

 

You wondered for a moment. That was the sixth one this since you began working here! What was happening to all of them? You grabbed your few belongings and walked back out onto the main lobby floor. Weaving around the cloud of children that had collected at the entrance, you walked towards your car. Vanessa was a silver 2004 Crown Victoria Lx Sport. She had been with you since your sophomore year of high school. Ten years later, she still runs strong.

 

Larry hangs the help wanted sign on the door. You wonder how much of a pay increase will come from working two jobs.

 

You contemplate taking the night shift as you drive home.

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HAha Marvel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> woo! thanks for all of the notes.

Your ‘home’ is really the dorm room you share at UMBC with Wade. The campus is great and is only twelve miles or so away from the pizzeria.

 

You push your door open and are greeted immediately with the cloying scent of mexican food. Wade is dancing awkwardly and singing in Spanish. Wade was always an odd character, very loud and kind of strange. The man also muttered to himself quite a bit.

 

“Hola mi amigo, Edward!” Wade hollered over the blaring salsa music. “¿Como esta usted en esta hermosa tarde?”

 

You give him a sheepish grin. You do not speak Spanish, but somehow, Wade does.

 

Wade tilts his head at you, “Esta bien? Mal?”

 

You know enough from high school Spanish to tell that he’s asking you how you’re doing.

 

“I’m fine,” you mutter quietly.

 

“Great!” Wade yells.

 

You just now notice that Wade is wearing a dress. It looks like a maid uniform complete with stilettos. He saunters up to you and spins around, wiggling his eyebrows.

 

He smiles, “You like?”

 

You laugh.

 

Wade’s attention returns to the tacos he was making. As he bends over the stove, you notice his tattoo. You are always questioning and debating what the tattoo on the back of his neck is. It kind of looks like a weird emo panda. A red circle, outlined in black is divided in half. Two white semi circles sit on either side of the dividing line. It looks familiar, but you can’t place it.

 

Wade pushes a plate towards you with three of the most delicious looking tacos you’ve ever seen. He comes over towards the futon you’re sitting on and plops down next to you.

 

“So how was work?” He asks, looking genuinely interested.

 

Wade doesn’t have a job. Maybe that’s because he’s super rich, but you have no idea where that money is coming from, but you are sure that it can’t be very legal. He occasionally leaves for a few days and then comes back with a shit ton of cash. You think he may be selling drugs, but to each his own.

 

You nod blankly, but Wade can read you like a book.

 

He crosses one tight clad leg over the other and gingerly places down his plate. “What’s wrong?” He asks.

 

You look down. “Just running low on cash. I might need to take up a second job.”

 

“I could give you some money. I’m loaded!”

 

You laugh. It was a nice gesture, but you couldn’t do that. You don’t know how he gets that money, and no offence, but you didn’t want to get caught using dirty cash when you worked at a kid’s pizzeria.

 

You take another bite of your taco. “Actually Wade, the night guard position just opened up at Fazbear’s. I was thinking of taking it.”

 

Wade makes a disgusted face. “Do you really want to be there that long?”

 

You shrug your shoulders, saying “Money is money.” Wade sighs. He knows how stubborn you are and knows that he isn’t going to talk you out of it. An alarm rings notifying you that it is 10 o’clock. You have to take your pills.

 

A Catapres for your anxiety, Prozac and Abilify for your depression, and Temazepam for your chronic insomnia. You also took a Trazodone, hopefully it would put you to sleep.

 

You and Wade finish your tacos watching some super-hero movie. You’re very drowsy and decide to turn in for the night. Your dorm is larger than most. You have a formal bedroom with two beds, a living room area, and a kitchen. It was more like an apartment than you would have thought it would have been.

 

You collide into your mattress, and are quickly pulled to a restless sleep by your temazepam.  


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait.

It’s so cold.

 

You’re all alone. You’re wandering through a frozen wasteland. Their is nothing but frost covered planes as far as the eye could see. There is a mountain in the distance; large in stature and frosted in ice. A sharp wind cuts through you like a blade.

 

And that’s when you hear it. It’s quiet and in the distance, but it is definitely there.

 

_Da, da, da, dum, dum, da, da, da, da, dum._

 

No. It can’t be-

 

_Da, da, da, dum, da, da, da, dum._

 

There he is. Freddy Fazbear is standing roughly twenty feet away from you. Chica and Bonnie are behind him. Their bodies broken, blood and pus leaking from their slashed faces as they smile maniacally at you.

 

The freezing cold of the icy grass begins to burn your feet.

 

“Wake up, Edward!” Freddy calls to you.

 

The other animatronics start laughing, their voice boxes shorting out because of the cold and their eyes flicker from their normal glow to a piercing red rapidly.

 

**_“Wake up!”_ **

 

Your eyes flutter open and you find yourself standing in a barren parking lot. To your left, there is a thick forest. To your right, Freddy Fazbear’s Pizzeria. You had sleepwalked from your dorm to the pizzeria. You knew you were a sleepwalker; it was a side effect to your medication. Your only question is how did you make it this far, and of course, why the pizza place?

 

Normally when you sleepwalk, it’s because you’re stressed or having a nightmare. You push a hand to your tee-shirt chest and notice that your heart is racing. You have no idea why. Were you having a nightmare?

 

You think, but you can’t remember.

 

It’s so cold. The weatherman had said something about freezing temperatures, but it was cloudy. The parking lot you were standing on was drenched in the past rain.

 

You should really rethink your pajama attire. Glancing down, you notice that you are wearing nothing more than boxers and a thin ass tee shirt. You wrap your arms around you as another sharp wind blows through your bony frame. You hear a rustling to your right.

 

The paper ‘Help Wanted’ sign on the window flaps in the wind, as if waving to you and calling you to come closer.

 

Possibly the largest gas guzzler you’ve ever seen roles into the abandoned parking lot. You recognize almost immediately that Wade has come looking for you.

 

“Hey!” Wade calls through the rolled down window, “What the hell are you doing? It’s freezing out here!”

 

Wade came looking for you. You aren’t sure why this surprised you so much. Wade has never exactly given you a reason to believe that he didn’t care for you at least a little. You suppose you just never expected him to go out of basic consideration for your well being. It was endearing to say the least.

 

Wade throws something out of his window at you; which is an awful fucking idea because you can’t catch for shit. You notice, after it almost knocks you over, that Wade had brought a blanket for you. You wrap it around yourself and jog toward his vehicle.

 

The huge hummer is black and accented with sections of red. You wonder what his obsession with those colors are, but right now you didn’t care enough to ask. You’re just happy he picked you up. The interior has the same color scheme.

 

Wade glances over at you, “You need to get that whole ‘sleepwalking’ thing under control, man. I woke up in the middle of the night and the door leading into the dorm was wide open and you were fucking nowhere. How did you even get here without getting hit by a car or something?”

 

You frown, “I’m not sure. I tend to walk directly in the middle of the road, and given how the road twists, it doesn’t make sense.

 

Wade continues to stare ahead, his jaw tense with worry, “Keep this up and I’ll just tie your ass to your bed -won’t have to come chase you.”

 

A smile spreads across your face.

 

“The weirdest thing is- your sleep walking doesn’t normally go very far. It’s only when you’re stressed about something that you go great distances,” Wade ponders.

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“I mean, I’ve been keeping track of your sleep patterns, like a good psychology major, and I’ve noticed that your usual sleep walking doesn’t normally exceed the limits of the hall. Maybe you get to the lobby of our dorm on a bad night, but it isn’t normal. The only time besides now I’ve seen you go past there is finals week.” He laughs lightly. “You walked your happy ass right into the history building.”

 

You glare at him, “It’s my worst class! I was paranoid about the test!”

 

He laughs at you again, and pulls into the parking garage for your dorm.

 

“Alright, lets get your ass up stairs and tuck you in. It’s barely six thirty and you don’t have classes till nine.”

 

Wade exits the car and walks ahead of you. As much as you don’t want to admit it, he’s very attractive. A sculpted back is scattered in various scars and spots of ink from his tattoos around his perfect torso. He had a great jawline too. -and that ass! Even in his baggy sweat pants, he had the best butt ever.

 

You realize rather quickly that you are sexually attracted to your room mate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My tumblr is actually-the-devil.tumblr.com Totes come follow me I'm great!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha Sorry for the mix up yesterday. If you have a thing against transgendered individuals, then leave this story now and don't turn back. You go Charlie.

You wake up groggy and unrested to the sound of Wade cooking breakfast. He’s always doing nice things like this for you. He’s kind of like a mother hen. He cooks, cleans, does whatever he does to make money, and has time to help you with your classes.

 

You are a forensic psychology major, something Wade often mocks you for. It’s weird how much help he actually gives considering that he doesn’t come off as all that intelligent. You think he majors in biochemistry, but you, more often than not, end up re-teaching him the lesson because he doesn’t understand. When you asked him why he wanted to do biochemistry, he shut down the conversation immediately, and you didn’t bring it up again.

 

You chose your major because of your desire to help people, but in indirect ways. You find yourself, more often than not, fascinated by blood and death. It was a bit of a problem as a child, but you think you’ve gotten a good grip on it.

 

“Morning Honeybun,” Wade calls from the kitchen.

 

You smile sheepishly at him. He still doesn’t have a shirt on.

 

Wade has been calling you stupid, shitty nicknames since he met you. It’s a thing you do; starting in freshman year. He started calling you kitty. You called him pumpkin. He called you baby-boy. You called him pudding pop. Now he’s calling you honeybun and you can’t come up with a good enough response. Yet.

 

You drift toward the wafting scent of pancakes. He slides a plate stacked high with your breakfast.

 

You mutter around a mouthful, “Thanks, Wade.’

 

“No problem. What time do you have to go into work today?”

 

“12:30.”

 

“Wait, seriously?”

 

You look up, “Yeah, why?”

 

“It’s 1:43.”

 

“Holy shit! What?!”

Wade tosses you your keys while you bolt into the share room. You don’t have time to shower, so you throw on your Fazbear uniform and charge out of your dorm after a rushed goodbye to Wade.

  
  
  


You park Vanessa behind the restaurant and rush in through the back door. Hopefully, no one noticed.

 

Unfortunately for you, Mr. White is on your ass the minute you step in the door.

 

“Edward,” He says, his tone low and obviously angry, “Step into my office.”

 

Your posture slumps as you trudge toward his office. It’s actually where the night guard does his... night guard duties? A large desk is pushed in the wall cubby in between the two military grade drop doors on either side of the hall. There is an ordinary desk fan perched in the corner, It is surrounded by plushies of the animatronics. Various drawings from the children cover the right side of the wall as well as news paper clippings from the _“Incident That is Not Going to be Mentioned on Fazbear Grounds and/or in Front of Larry White_ _.”_ A Fazbear poster is pinned on the other side. The day guard, Daniel Holt, is lazily scrolling through the camera’s views on the tablet.

 

“Give us a minute, Daniel,” Larry says.

 

He gives you the “I’m so sorry” look and slides from the desk, taking the tablet with him. Larry shuts both doors.

 

“Take a seat,”

 

He pushes the chair towards you. You sit down.

 

“Edward, we aren’t here because you are over an hour late. I mean... we’ll get to that, but for now-” He pulls another tablet out from the top drawer of the desk and fiddles with it for second. “-what were you doing outside last night?”

 

You sigh in relief. You honestly thought you were getting fired, but this... you can handle this.

 

“You see, Sir,” You look him in the eye to show your honesty, “I suffer from sleepwalking disorder-”

 

“And you walked all the way here from the campus?”   

 

“Well yes. It only gets bad like this when I’m stressed out. I’m sorry, I’ll try to get a better grip on it,” You frown.

 

“It’s not a store problem, Edward. I’m just worried about your safety. Are you alright?” He says worriedly.

 

“Yes I’m fine, a little tired though.”

 

“Well, that’s it, I guess. Stay safe, Edward.”

 

He moves to stand and you figured that there is no better time than now.

 

“Actually, Mr. White, if you don’t mind,” You stop, reluctant to continue. “I want to take the position as night guard.”

 

He turns back toward you, “Are you sure? That’s a lot of responsibility.”

 

“I know,” You fiddle with the hem of your shirt. “It would help me out a lot though.”

 

Larry smiles sadly, “Well if you’re sure. You start tomorrow night. Daniel will teach you everything you need to know; work the floor until six and then spend the last three hours of your shift with him. Okay?”

 

You smile brightly, relief coursing through your veins and slowing down your heart’s erratic beating.

 

“Thank you so much, Mr. White. You have no idea what a huge relief that is.”

 

He laughs and opens the doors. “It’s fine, now get on the floor...you’re late enough as it is.”

 

You duck out of the room, smiling happily. You practically skip to the break room to drop off your stuff. Daniel, Naomi, and Charlie are sitting at a table in the center of the room when you walk in.

 

Daniel “Purple Guy” Holt is playing what you think is Crossy Road on the tablet. Charlie was the first to dub the day guard “Purple Guy.” His hair has the same frosted purple tinge as Tyler Oakly, but with Joey Graceffa’s style. When he isn’t in the purple uniform, he dresses like Dan. His eyes are purple, but you’re pretty sure those are contacts. Hell, even his facial hair is purple. He reminds you of the entire vlogger side of YouTube thrown into one person. You mentally cringe.

 

“Hey Edward!” Naomi called.

 

You smile broadly and wave back.

 

Bones slides out from the chair he’s seated on. “You seem happy. According to Tinky-Winky, you just got your ass chewed by Larry.”

 

Daniel scoffs, “Seriously, Charlotte?”

 

Naomi and you sigh in unison. P.G. knows that the one thing that annoys Bones the most is getting misgendered. Bones made it perfectly clear to the lot of Fazbear employees that HIS name was Charlie, and HE was a boy. Most of you just laughed. It wasn’t too hard to tell, but you are happy that he took the courage to announce it to you all. You know it took a lot of working up to, and if you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t have done it.

 

Bones ripped P.G. off of his chair by the collar of his shirt in an instant.

 

“I told you, my name is Charlie Rodriguez. And I am a man,” He growled.

 

You step next to Bones and place a calming hand on his shoulder. As much as you know he deserves it, you need to learn this night guard stuff. He drops P.G. flat on his ass. Naomi, God bless her, brings ice water for Daniel and Charlie and hand sanitizer for you. You’d be lying if you didn’t admit to having a bit of a germ phobia.

 

“Anyway,” You start. “I need to spend the last three hours of my shift with you.” You point at Daniel.

 

He stands, dusts himself off, and strides toward you with a look in his eye that you aren’t particularly fond of. “Finally baby boy, if you wanted me, I’ve been trying to get in your pants since you started working here.”

 

You wince. He has. You’re used to being called that name, but only one guy has the right to call you baby boy, and his name is Wade Wilson. Daniel hadn’t stopped calling you that since he saw the nickname from one of Wade’s texts.

 

“Back the fuck off,” Charlie intervenes.

 

After recovering from the previous stress of the situation, you mutter, “I got the night guard job, and Mr. White said that you need to teach me how to.... guard?”

 

“Are you sure that’s a good idea?!” Naomi asked.

 

You shut your locker.“Yeah, why wouldn’t it be? I mean, it’s more money for me.”

 

“Do you know what happened to the other night guards?” She whispered.

 

P.G. smirks, obviously recovered from Bones’s outburst, “Rumor has it, the dead bodies of all the previous guards are stuffed inside the suit of Freddy Fazbear himself.”

 

Naomi looks on the verge of tears, and nausea.

 

“Oh that’s just a myth! There’s no way, this place would have been shut down years ago if that’s what was happening,” Charlie sighed.

 

“But it was shut down,” Daniel begins, “I used to work at the other Pizzeria before all those kids went mi-”

 

He is cut off by the chorus of shushes from the three of you. You leave, shaking your head. It’s all a load of bullcrap, but worst comes to worst, you should have Wade finalize your will.  

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha ha... Don't hate me about this whole Daniel thing. I had a mental image and I went with it.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry!... sorry.... yeah

Three birthday parties, two dropped trays, and one vomit clean up later, it is six o’clock and you are heading to Daniel’s office. While you both do get into your little tiffs about boundaries, you and P.G. are actually pretty good friends. You trace your hand around the frame of the drop doors as you walk into the security HQ. 

“Alright, Edward,” he purrs once you enter. “This is all pretty easy stuff, but I heard that the animatronics get rowdy at night.”

You roll your eyes at his feign attempt to scare you.

He pushes his hands up defensively, “I mean I’ve never worked the night shift, but Schmidt, you know the old guard, said that some wierd stuff went on when the lights went out,”

“You and I both know that that is a load of bull.”

“I don’t know man,” He flips through the tablet cameras again. “I’m just telling you what I heard. No one’s seen him in a couple of days though.”

You sit on the desk, “Didn’t he have like a kid on the way or something?”

“Ah, yes. With the always elusive ‘Doll’.”

“You ever see her?”

“Nope. To be honest, I thought he was just imagining her. I don’t think she existed,” P.G. laughed.

“You’re awful,” you grumble.

“Anyway, enough about the missing nut case.” He hands you the tablet. “I don’t know why Larry thinks you need three hours for me to teach you this stuff. It’s all pretty easy. It’s easier than being a waiter at this place, if anything.”

“What makes you say that?”

Daniel laughs, “Who the fuck is gonna try and rob a children’s pizzeria? Anyone with half a brain can tell that there isn’t some magical amount of money here.”

“Maybe the same person who kills little kids at a pizzeria.”

Daniel sobers up immediately. “Though that was a tragedy... I don’t think money was his motive.”

“Why?”

“I mean... he didn’t get any money for it.”

You laugh, “How do you know? Are you the kid-killer?”

He giggles, “Damn, you guessed it. Lord help me- I need Jesus!”

“You need a lot more than Jesus if you’re killing kids!” You gasp out between laughs.

“Anyway,” he cuts in, “I think this is easier because the only actual moving I do is during my break to refill my drink.”

“Dude, seriously?”

“Yup, and even then, the action of flipping through cameras for eight hours, while dreadfully boring, is pretty easy.”

You tap on the room map in the bottom corner of the screen, flipping through the views. “Anything interesting ever happen?”

“Well, there’s always a group of kids that poke their nosy little heads into pirate cove, but one of you staff members normally shut that down. Don’t want a repeat of ‘87, do we?”

“What even happened in ‘87?” You yell angrily. “I asked Bones and Naomi and both of them immediately shut me down.”

He rubs a hand over his fuzzy chin, “Well, how much do you know?”

“I know it’s called ‘The Bite of ‘87’, so I’m guessing a child got bit by one of those creepy fucking animatronics.”

He nods.

“I know that that’s the reason Pirate’s Cove is shut down... That’s about it.”

“So, Foxy, the animatronic in Pirate’s Cove, was doing his usual pirate thing and this little kid jumped up on stage with him, which, in it’s own right, is against restaurant policy. So I don’t know how that brat wasn’t yanked off immediately,” he says.

“So a kids on stage with Foxy, so what?”

“Well, when home boy’s mommy was informed of her sons... misadventures... she told the staff that he should be able to play with the fox if he wanted. That’s when it happened. This kid stuck his hands into the mouth of the animatronic and Foxy ripped back and slammed his jaw onto the kids face.”

You gasp, “Holy shit!”

“Yup, they had to break Foxy’s jaw just to get him out. Poor kid lost his frontal lobe. Apparently he lived. A little after that, all those kids went missing and they shut down the place,” he sighs.

“Didn’t you work at the old location when this went down?” 

“Yeah, but I was fifteen at the time. I may have been a sit-in waiter when someone called in sick, but normally I was doing dishes behind the counter. I had no idea what was going on. The first scream went through the building like a gunshot, you could even hear it above everything else. We were all told that the building was going to be closed down for a couple of days. When we all came back, not only did we lose half of the old customers, but Pirate’s Cove was closed indefinitely.”

“Wow.” You take a second to process the information, “That must have been incredibly hard for you.”

“Why?” He takes the tablet from your hands. “I had no connection to the kid, and with all the people that quit, I was promoted to a full time floor worker.”

“Of course, all you care about is the pay raise, you damn sociopath,” you lightly punch him in the arm. “Anyway, night guarding?” 

“Well, you’ve got the basics. The big red button labeled door shuts the door. The big white button turns the each of the hall lights on. The only parts of the restaurant you can’t see include outside of each of your doors and- obviously, the bathrooms.”

You shoot him a quizzical look, “What exactly am I looking for.”

“Things out of the ordinary I guess,” he shrugs. “Moving animatronics.”

“Any other tips from the experienced guard?”

He smiles, “Like I said, I’ve never been the night guard. Oh! But Mike would complain about the power.”

“The power?”

“Like, I don’t have to worry about it ‘cause the lights are always on and there’s no serious need for me to shut the doors, but I don’t know, man. Keeping the doors shut burns through your power like a motherfucker. Try not to keep them both closed at the same time unless you absolutely have to.” 

“Why is there a limit to the power?”

He scoffs. “Cheap management. I think the building runs on generators at night, and those have a limited charge.”

“Weird.”

“Hey, I gotta take a piss, so watch my station,” P.G. stated.

Daniel puts the tablet down, and you give him an incredulous look as he stands. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Yup,” he laughs, “Hands on experience or some shit. When I get back, tell Larry you’re done for the day.”

“Whatever, P.G.”

He winks at you and steps out of the room. You pick up the tablet. 

So one of those creepy little bastards is actually dangerous. It doesn’t surprise you, but it does make you much more anxious being around the infamous purple curtain. You flip through the cameras. Kids here, kids there. Oh, yay! Freddy’s on sta-

Wait...

Chica and Bonnie are staring... no... glaring at the camera. It’s like they know it’s you behind its lens. It makes you sick. You know there’s no actual way that the robots could carry such a raw hatred, but the intensity in their glowing eyes. It burns. You mind drifts to Foxy. He almost killed a kid, If Bonnie and Chica can harbor such a deep rooted hatred for you, what must he feel?

The easter duo turn back toward the stage, their smiles back in place and eyes, just as cheerful and welcoming as ever. 

Maybe you were just imagining it.

Yeah.

That has to be it. You’re just jumpy at the idea of a new job, especially with all those rumors. 

Now feeling sick in your skin, you switch to party room one and boredly watch the goings on. A little girl is celebrating her sixth birthday by the looks of it. You giggle at the image of Naomi getting her hair braided, quite nicely, by the birthday girl herself. Her blue eyes shimmer with true adoration as she leads the party guest in the Fazbear Birthday Song. It’s pretty cute. 

You switch to Pirate’s Cove. The curtain is swinging? You see something glowing bright yellow behind the purple curtain. Leaning closer to the tablet screen, you try to get a better view of whatever that is. It flickers momentarily, and disappears. 

A hand grips your shoulder. You scream, in a very manly fashion (It totally was... Shut up P.G.).

Daniel is laughing his ass off. You want nothing more that to punch him in the throat, but that could get you fired. 

“You sorry-ass piece of shit!” You yell, shoving your way passed him on your way out. 

“Baby come back!” he sings horribly after you. “You can blame it all on meeeeeee!”

You slip into the break room and remove your phone from your locker. It’s only 6:45.

“You done already?”

If one more fucking person scares you today, you swear to Jesus that you are literally going to kill something. 

You stutter, “Y-Yeah.”

“Well alright. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Oh, and Edward?”

“Yes Mr. White?”

“Be careful about who you let get close to you. The animatronics definitely have picked their favorites of the staff.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy fucking shit fuck I'm sorry that this took so long to write. I just keep popping in and out of this fandom, and I am terribly sorry. Please enjoy this chapter of background about you and Wade. I hope you appreciate this cause sO MUCH RESEARCH WENT INTO THIS CHAPTER.
> 
> Once again please forgive the Spanish. I just plugged some shit into google translate.

“Woo! First day of night watch!” Wade cheered, dramatically jumping around you. “Are you ready sport?”

 

You roll your eyes and cross your arms. He was making a bigger deal about this than it really was. You were still a little bit spooked from Larry’s parting words, but Wade’s overall enthusiasm worked wonders on your encroaching anxiety.

 

It’s moments like this where you remember just how much Wade has done for you and how far you’ve come since becoming a student here. You were obviously terrified, as were all incoming freshman. But you in particular had to force back the lump in your throat to keep your lunch down when you entered the campus.

 

Your parents didn’t come with you. To be honest you didn’t expect them to given the distance. It still hurt a little though. You moved from the sweltering heat of Texas to the harsh chill of Maryland right after your high school graduation. So there you are, alone and lost on a campus that you've never even been to in a section of the country you had never come near. You are seriously regretting your decision to decline the campus tour you were offered back in high school.

 

You notice all of the other students, obviously freshman like you, carrying twice their weight in shit they brought from their homes, looking around numbly like zombies for wherever their dorm may be. You were slightly comforted in the fact that you weren't the only one in this situation. You skip the trunk and pull out the papers given to you from the Student Support Center. Your dorm is in Erickson Hall which seems to be tragically located smack dab in the center of campus. You begin to wander towards your dorm, mustering your biggest bitch face in order to hide your oncoming panic attack. Your scowl splits the sea of students efficiently.

 

You just hope you don’t look as lost as you feel; God forbid one of these overly enthusiastic members of the UMBC welcoming committee tries to talk to you.

 

You find it easily. Its a five story brick building, and looks like any modern Hilton Inn. You walk through the main doors. If you thought the campus was littered with lost students, these halls are a fucking landfill. No one seems to have any idea where the fuck anyone is going, and no one can find their dorm. The upperclassmen were no help, and any assigned adult guides were lost in the wave of freshman terror. You look around, trying to get your bearings and realize rather quickly that everyone in this building was a fucking idiot.

 

Your dorm was assigned with a letter  and numbers; the letters being A, B, C, D, or E. There were five halls in this building, each one labeled clearly with a letter. The numbers, one through five, were the floors. It takes you all of two minutes to find your dorm, and majority of that was winding your way through parents, students, and piles of luggage. You slide your key in and turn the door knob.

 

The first thing you notice is the incredible amount of contraband that covers the dorm. This dorm would give your parents a panic attack. Knives, boxes of bullets, what you hoped weren’t loaded guns, and... are those fucking swords...strewn about the room in random locations. You can also smell tacos.

 

The second thing you notice is the duffle bag filled with stacks of money. What the actual fuck? Who are you roomed with? A cartel drug lord?

 

“Hola! Mi nombre es piscina de los muertos, pero me puedes llamar a Wade. ¿Cuál es tu nombre, nena?”

 

Holy fucking shit. Is that your roommate? Is he... speaking Spanish? You know enough from high school to know that A) He said to call him Wade, B) something about the pool of the dead, and C) He just called you baby.

 

You're slightly offended, because you are not some floozy that this jerk can push around, and you are certainly not his baby. You faintly remember you've been spacing out and staring at him for the last two minutes, silent.

 

He points his finger at you and raises an eyebrow. Then he moves his hand to his profound adam’s apple and flicks his wrist like a switch.

 

You give him an even more confused look.

 

“Are you mute?” He asks.

 

Which to be honest surprises you more than anything. He, Wade, seems so willing to try to make this easier for you.

 

“N-no. I can speak,” You stutter, looking to the side and running a nervous hand through your hair.

 

What even is the appropriate reaction to... this?

 

He smiles and extends his hand. “Well hi! I assume you’re my new roommate, then?”

 

“I...” You take a deep breath. You’re nauseous again. He’s so energetic that it’s making your anxiety flare up. “I suppose so. I’m Edward.”

 

“Wade Wilson. Double Majoring in psychology and biochemistry.”

 

“Oh! I’m majoring in criminal psychology!”

 

He laughs, out right laughs at you. “What do you wanna be, a cop?”

 

“A detective actually,” You mutter weakly. “Why biochemistry?”

 

The smile that has been plastered to his face since you walked in falters slightly and his face falls. “...No reason,” He turns back into the kitchenette. “No reason you should worry. I’m taking psychology to get a better understanding of... well, the brain? Maybe its reactions to certain things, or maybe its illnesses. I want to know. I want to know so I can help.” He turns around, sporting another wide smile.

 

He’s very tall. Over six feet easy. His blonde hair hangs just slightly in his bright blue eyes. Dark purple bags tug down on them. His skin is so pale it’s practically translucent, covered in scars, bruises, and the outline of the dark blue veins underneath. He looks sick. That would explain his studies. Despite the oddities this guy has a huge amount of muscle mass.

 

“Where’s all your stuff man?” He asks, looking around you.

 

“I, uh... left it in my car. I wanted to find my dorm before I started lugging it around the campus.”

 

His smile widens. “That is actually one of the most ingenious ideas I have ever heard. I wish I had done that my freshman year. I’m a junior, by the way.”

 

He clicks off the stove and clamps a large hand onto your shoulder, pulling you back towards the front door.

 

“Come on, cutie. I’ll help you carry your shit up."

 

When he helped you unpack, he found your medicine case. All of your pills are a painful reminder of what was wrong with you. You were expecting to have a very awkward conversation about all of your mental illnesses with this guy that you just met, once again, he surprises you with his disregard for oddities.

 

“Hey Edward,” He shook the container lightly to wake you from your horrified trance. “I’m gonna put this in the cabinet next to the stove so you don’t lose it, ‘kay?”

 

A week after classes started, you had a night terror, and when you woke up sobbing, Wade stayed up with you for hours, telling you stories of his life to calm you down.

 

He was concerned for you when you got a job at Fazbear’s, and while he did try to talk you out of it for a while, he made sure that you were fully aware of the history so you felt safe with the knowledge.

 

He picked up your homework when you were too depressed to get out of bed, and made sure to tell you that it didn’t make you weak.

 

He tracked you down during freshman finals when your sleepwalking dragged you all the way into the history building.  

 

He drove down to Texas with you for three weeks during summer vacation because you were nervous about the trip back.

 

Wade helped you so much more than you thought you deserved. Your mental illnesses were weaker with his companionship and you both were ecstatic when you got roomed together again for his senior year. You don't want to think about what will happen when he graduates.

 

“Dude? You alright?” Wade asks.

 

You suppose with your reminiscing, you must've spaced out.

 

“Yeah, I’m fine. What were you saying?”

 

He tosses a silver suit case, the one you know houses weapons and other illegal items, onto his bed with a dull whump.

 

“I was just telling you that I’m leaving again for a couple of days.”

 

What the fuck does he do for a living? Why? Just... why?

 

“You gonna be able to hold down the fort, babe?” He smirks.

 

You decide to play along. “Oh heavens! Whatever shall I do without my strapping young knight to keep me safe?”

 

He grabs one of the swords and places it over his chest as he lowers to one knee before you. “Be safe, my sweet prince. For I shall return in four moons if the mission is a success.”

 

You break out into a fit of giggles. This is ridiculous, but perfect in every way. He stands and slides the weapon back into the case and glances at the clock.

 

“Take your pills hon, It’s eleven thirty.”

 

You stopped using the phone alarm. After all, Wade was pretty much on top of your schedule.

 

“I’ll be on my flight to Jamaica by the time you get off of work, so I guess this is goodbye for a couple of days. Get my notes and shit from that hot blonde in my psych class.”

 

He plops down on the couch as you grab your keys.

 

“Will do. Bye Wade,” you call smiling at his ‘Later’ called after you shut the door. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promise the next chapter is the first day of night watch.  
> follow me on tumblr at actually-the-devil.tumblr.com  
> and my beta reader wolfpoots.tumblr.com  
> couldn't have done this with out her.


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